The Little Things
by OddChicken
Summary: Snippets of Yamato and Mimi's interactions and evolving relationship. Because, after all, it's the little things that make one fall in love. Chapter 5: "Mimi... Have you spared some thought that maybe my Dad's home, too?" he asked, his lips close enough to touch her ear.
1. That Time at the Café

**The Little Things**

* * *

_Because it's the little things that make one fall in love._

* * *

**1\. That Time at the Café**

15 October 2014  


For the most part, Mimi Tachikawa was surrounded by good days. You know, days when things just magically go your way.

Today, however, was not one of those days.

Trudging through the crowd at one of Odaiba's biggest streets, her arms held four books thick enough to be considered pillows. Various pictures of food graced the cover of the books—one had pictures of decadent desserts neatly lined up next to one another whereas other covers had pictures of savoury cuisines. Mimi's frown deepened as she stopped and readjusted the books to a more comfortable position. After some struggling with the books and the strap of her—also quite heavy—bag, she continued her journey home. A sigh escaped her lips as she recalled what happened during Home Economics that morning.

She was never one to cook; she was used to having everything ready at her fingertips. Surely, the 'trip' to the Digital World had left her more independent and mature than she used to be. However, one must note that neither independent nor mature is synonymous with having an inherent talent at cooking. She never did bother learning how to cook more than mere instant noodles as she thought it was all she needed to know. Hence, it was no surprise when she managed to set the school's fire alarm on by leaving her dish in the oven for far too long. _'Maybe I should ask Mom to teach me,' _her eyebrows furrowed.

Lost in her train of thought, she stumbled upon a stranger's foot. The additional weight of the books threw her sense of balance off. Trying to avoid a scarred knee, she regained her balance by dropping the books to the ground. Unfortunately, another stranger bumped into her from behind and caused her to fall on her knees.

Noticing that neither stranger apologized, she yelled in frustration. "What is _wrong _with you people? Could today get any worse?"

And like a cliché, it did.

She felt rain drops pelting her head and cursed as she quickly picked up her books. By that time, the rain had gotten worse; both her hair and her blue school uniform were starting to get darker, absorbing the heavy rain. Mimi started to run and scanned the area for a shelter. She resorted to take shelter at the nearest café, located 300 meters from where she was.

Mimi barged into the café shoulder first, not caring how she looked to the people around her. She leaned on the wall to her right and gasped for air, clutching her books tight to her chest. Simultaneously, she looked around the café. It was small and cozy; the interior was designed to look like a western family house, filled with polished wooden tables and occasional vases of flowers. Chairs and sofas were placed strategically, giving enough space for people to move around while utilizing the little space for more customers.

Amongst the few customers that were in the café, one caught Mimi's interest. The customer was sitting at the far corner table, facing away from her, softly humming a melody she has never heard before. He had spiky blond hair and seemed to be quite tall, donning a similar light blue blazer she was wearing. _'Is that Yamato?' _she thought. Mimi quietly approached his table.

Yamato Ishida was deep in thought. His thick eyebrows were furrowed, his face contorted into a slightly confused expression. He tapped his dark green pencil at the coffee table and bit his bottom lip as he looked at the music sheets scattered about. The music sheets were mostly blank, some filled, and one filled halfway. The second year student at Odaiba Central High School was isolated from the outside world to the point that he could no longer hear any noise aside from his own humming. His took a sip from his espresso and appreciated its sharp taste before adding new notes to the incomplete music sheet. He set the paper back on the table and hummed the new tune.

"Hi, Yamato!" Mimi greeted as she leaned to her right side, grateful that there was someone she knows who might be willing to hear her woe. She received no response from the boy. Confused, she glanced at his surroundings and noticed the messy pile of music sheets. "Hm…" she mused. Trying to read his scribbles, she leaned closer to the table, her hair cascading around her face.

Droplets of water dripped down Mimi's hair and onto Yamato's music sheet. Surprised, Yamato leaned back and recognized one of his juniors standing next to him, almost completely soaked.

"Mimi?"

"Hm?" Hearing her name being said, Mimi slightly turned her face towards the source of the voice. Her eyes were still focused on the music sheets, her head nodding lightly as she tried to imagine how the song sounded.

"Ehm... Hi?" Yamato waved his hand in front of Mimi's face. She snapped out of her reverie and recoiled her body to stand straight.

"Oh, yes, hi, Yamato!" Mimi blushed, embarrassed.

Yamato looked at Mimi from head to toe, his mouth slightly agape. "Why are you wet?"

"It's raining heavily outside," she pointed to the window. "I forgot to bring my umbrella."

"Really?" Yamato turned his head towards the window and finally noticed the raindrops bombarding the glass. "That's some heavy rain."

"Yeah… Can I sit here for a while?"

"Sure, suit yourself," he gestured to the chair opposite of him.

Mimi smiled and settled the books on the table. She sneezed and realized just how cold she was—her clothes were sopping wet and her hair was not doing much better. A small bless you was said by Yamato, replied by a thanks from Mimi. Quickly, she set aside her bag and unbuttoned her blazer, taking it off altogether.

"Ah… That's so much better," she sighed, taking a handkerchief from the pocket of her bag.

"H-hey, Mimi, I don't think—you should probably—uh… I don't think it's such a good idea to take off your blazer," Yamato commented, his voice trailing off.

"What? Why? I'm gonna catch a cold if I keep that on," Mimi argued. She was wiping her arms dry.

Yamato turned his head away from her, a blush slowly creeping on his cheeks. "Fine. You can use mine, then," he took his blazer off and threw it at her direction. Mimi made a confused face, but was grateful. She put it on one arm at a time and that was when she realized that she had not worn her sweater vest over her white blouse. White. Blouse.

White.

"Eep!" Mimi squeaked and pulled Yamato's blazer to cover her chest.

An awkward silence fell between the two.

Yamato broke the silence with a cough. "Y-you don't have to worry, Meems. I didn't see a thing."

'_Your red face seems to indicate otherwise, though,' _Mimi thought, her face beet red. _'Why did I choose to wear a red bra today oh my god there's no way he didn't see anything why am I so stupid—'_

"Are you going to order something?" Yamato asked, clearly trying to lighten the atmosphere. Although his cheeks were no longer red, a hint of pink still showed on his ears.

"Eh—em… No…" Mimi stuttered, trying to keep her emotions under control. "I-I spent almost all of my allowance for this week," she clutched his blazer tighter.

"I see…"

Another awkward silence fell between the two.

Despite being in the same group, so to speak, they were never really close to one another. Mimi was much closer to Koushiro and Joe, whereas Yamato chose to spend his time with Takeru and Taichi. The amount of conversations that they have had with each other so far could probably be counted using one's fingers. This situation was not making it any better, either.

Mimi tried to shift her thoughts to something else—anything, really. She then remembered what Yamato was doing before she interrupted him. "Hey—"

"So, what did you spend the money on?" Yamato asked her before she could get her sentence out.

"Ah, I spent it on these," she lazily pointed at the books.

"Cook books?" Yamato took the one with pictures of desserts. "You like cooking, Mimi?" he quirked an eyebrow as he examined the cover of the book. _'Since when can she _cook_?' _he thought.

"Not really," she sighed. "It's just that… Would you listen to what happened today at Home Ecs?" she pouted and put on her puppy face, desperate to tell her story to him.

Taken aback by Mimi's expression, Yamato could only reply with a:

"Yeah, sure."

* * *

"Then Ms. Kurogami told me that if I did a mistake like that again, I won't pass the class," Mimi finished her story with a deep sigh. Her shoulder slumped, showing her disappointment.

"…How did you manageto burn slow-roasted beef in 15 minutes that badly?" Yamato asked, completely bewildered.

"I don't know!" Mimi threw her hands in exasperation. "I followed the recipe to a T—I don't know what happened!" she covered her face in her hands.

'_I could think of a thing or two…' _

"Don't you make that accusing face, Yamato," Mimi said, peeking from her hands.

"I'm not saying anything," he leaned back, a smirk on his lips. Mimi looked at him suspiciously. He chuckled and took another sip from his espresso, emptying the small cup.

"Come to think of it, why are you drinking espresso? Are you going to stay up late today?"

"Not really. It's just to get my brain running. I've been stuck at this one part of the song," Yamato indicated to the half empty music sheet.

"Oh, I read that earlier!"

Yamato raised one of his eyebrows as if saying, "you did?"

"Don't you think that it would be—" Mimi's sentence was cut off by the ringing of her phone from her bag. She immediately whipped it out and answered the call. "Hello? No, I'm at a café now. No way, it's still raining outside and I don't have an umbrella—I don't want to catch a cold!" she argued to the person at the other end of the line.

"Feel free to use mine," Yamato handed his umbrella to Mimi.

"Eh? But then how will you—? Yes, Mom, a friend just lent me his umbrella. No, I can't take it, how will he get home?"

"I'll be fine," he answered her unfinished question. "My house is nearby."

Touched, Mimi mouthed a thank you. "Alright, I'll go home now. Love you, too. Bye." She slid the phone back to her bag. "Sorry, I really have to go home now. My Mom is kicking up a fuss about me being late to the family dinner," she clasped her hands together in an apologetic manner.

"No worries. Be careful on your way home, Meems."

"Oh, and here's your blazer," she started taking his blazer off.

"J-just wear it!" he remembered the sight of her without his blazer. "Your blazer isn't dried yet, right?"

"Right… I'm so sorry to impose on you like this, Yamato. I really owe you one," Mimi said as she took her books and slung her bag, her wet blazer hanging off of it.

"Don't think about it. Like I said, my house is nearby," he shrugs with nonchalance. He glanced at her worried face and gave a small smile as to assure her, "go."

"Alright. Bye, Yamato!" she smiled before walking away from the table. Yamato waved.

'_Now, to get back to work…' _he cracked his fingers and started tapping the table with his pencil, trying to make a melody.

"By the way," Mimi returned to the table, "I think that this part could sound like this." She hummed a nice melody, taking Yamato by chance. "Just a suggestion though! You don't have to put it in the song. Bye, for real this time!" she sang as she walked away from his table.

Yamato paused before humming Mimi's melody twice. _'That could work…' _he jotted it down on his music sheet, satisfied that, at the very least, this part of the song has been solved. "Thanks, Meems!" He looked back, but Mimi was already out the door. _'I'll thank her tomorrow.'_

Two minutes later, he noticed a shadow approaching his table. It was the waiter.

"From the girl that sat in front of you. Enjoy!" the waiter said with a friendly smile. He set the cup of green tea down and bowed before going back to his station.

On the tissue, Yamato could see small, neat scribbles. He picked the tissue up. It read:

"_You shouldn't work too hard—don't forget to relax once in a while._

_P.S.: I read somewhere that green tea is good for creativity :)_"

Never having received a note like that, Yamato snickered and stored the tissue in his bag.

"I definitely have to thank her."

* * *

**A/N: **Hello and thank you for having read it this far. I got this idea when I was thinking of despite a crack ship that Mimato is, there are _so many interesting things and issues _that could arise from them merely interacting! So, please look forward to the next chapter(s) as well.

As of now, I am not quite sure where The Little Things will go, whether as a singular, continuous story line or a collection of short chapters that has (or has no) connection to one another. Nonetheless, please feel free to favourite this story or put it into alert if you like it!


	2. That Time when He Thanked Her

**The Little Things**

* * *

_Because it's the little things that make one fall in love._

* * *

**2\. That Time when He Thanked Her**

17 October 2014

_RING!_

It was lunch time at Odaiba Central High School. The loud noise pulled Yamato out of his math-induced stupor. He quietly yawned and stretched his neck before putting his books away.

"Hey, Yamato, wanna go to the cafeteria? Takeshi and I are going to get some bread," Taichi invited, approaching Yamato's desk, hands tucked in his pants' pockets.

"Ah... Sure, I could use a cold drink," Yamato replied whilst getting up from his seat at the back of the class. The three then proceeded to exit the classroom.

* * *

"Wait _here_!" Taichi pointed down solidly at floor. He and Yamato were standing at the doorway of the bustling cafeteria while Takeshi went to queue for the bread. The school's cafeteria was separated into two sections: on the right were the counters where breads and other meals are sold whereas the left wing was equipped with wooden tables for students to gather and eat their lunches. "Don't you _dare_ wander off on your own—God knows how hard I searched for you the last time you did that," Taichi frowned and crossed his arms, remembering how he had to scour the whole school for Yamato only to find him sitting alone at the roof top, casually eating his sandwich.

"I won't," Yamato sighed. He did that once and now Taichi had him marked as a lost child for life.

"Good. You remember this order, young man! Don't you go around making Papa worry!" Taichi mocked with a grin as he jogged his way to Takeshi. Yamato rolled his eyes with annoyance while making his way to the vending machine filled with both cold and hot beverages. He shoved his right hand into his pants' pocket, grabbing some loose change before counting the exact amount he needed to buy the drink he craved.

One by one, Yamato inserted the coins into the slot, secretly enjoying the light sound of the rolling coins. He then pushed the button below a picture of bottle filled with dark brown, slightly transparent liquid. No more than three seconds later, a bottle identical with the picture hit the entry of the vending machine with a _CLOP! _Yamato bent down and took the bottle before drinking about half of its content.

'_Black tea is best drunk straight,' _he gave a small smile of satisfaction and walked back to the promised doorway.

"_No way! _You are _so _lying, Tachikawa!" A high-pitched laugh caught Yamato's attention. He turned at the source of the sound and saw Mimi, desperately trying to cover one of her friend's mouths—presumably the one who was guffawing to her heart's content. "Ssh! Everyone can _hear _you!" Mimi said, sounding mildly annoyed yet amused at the same time. She was sitting at the corner of one of the tables of the cafeteria, surrounded by her group of friends. Their idle chit-chat—gossip?—continued on with the same intensity, none of them paying heed to the amount of stares they were getting.

'_That's right. I haven't thanked her.'_

* * *

Yamato set down a small box of strawberry milk on the table occupied by Mimi and her friends. The group of girls stopped their conversation upon the interruption made by the blond. Noticing that the pink box was set next to her, Mimi traced her eyes from the arm that rested upon it to the pair of sky blue eyes staring back at her. She tilted her head slightly and gave him a questioning look.

"Thanks for two days ago. The tea—and, well, you—helped a lot."

"Oh, yeah, no problem," she flashed a sweet smile. He gave a small smile in return. The eyebrows of her friends slowly quirked up, all of them suspicious.

'_Isn't he that handsome senior?' _one of them thought, while looking at the girl in front of her. _'The one in that band right? What was it, The Teenage Wolves?' _the other girl nodded. _'What business does _he _have with Mimi?' _all of them thought in unison.

Unconscious of all the attention she was receiving, Mimi took note of what Yamato was wearing: a large dark grey sweater over the usual school uniform.

"Ah!" her amber eyes widened in realization. "I'm so sorry, Yamato, I completely forgot to wash your blazer," she slowly shrunk back in her seat, feeling guilty. Her eyes were downcast, her forefingers playing with each other nervously.

"Too busy reading those books, no doubt?" Yamato smirked, leaning closer. He meant it as an actual question, but it came out wrong—it sounded as if he were teasing her. The apologetic look in Mimi's face was quickly replaced with a slightly annoyed one, accompanied with a small pout of apprehension. "What's that supposed to mean?" she raised an eyebrow.

Yamato raised both hands to his chest, indicating surrender despite thinking he was of no fault. "Nothing. It's fine, Meems."

'_Meems?' _her peer thought while looking at each other.

"This sweater is pretty warm—it's still fall anyway. I'll probably need it when it starts snowing. So don't _forget_ to give it to me by then, alright?" his handsome smirk etched deeper into his face. Again, he sounded as if he were teasing her. This time, however, he did it on purpose; he found her reactions to be entertaining and her pout to be, despite his conscience, kind of cute.

"I'm not that forgetful, you know," Mimi crossed her arms in mock annoyance. She turned her face the other way, breaking eye contact with him altogether. She felt unusually jittery at that moment. This was not the first time she had spoken with someone who looks, in her own words, "above average", nor was it the first time she had spoken to him. In fact, she talked to him just two days ago! Yet, something about his sly—and admittedly suave—expression stirred her insides, causing her to unconsciously bit her bottom lip, momentarily dropping her facade. Upon realization, she quickly hardened her facial expression to display feigned irritation.

"Let's see about that," he cocked an eyebrow in amusement.

"Yamato, let's go! We've got the bread," Takeshi called from the cafeteria's doorway. Taichi stood beside him, waving to Mimi who waved back.

Yamato turned around and started walking away, leaving the cold milk on Mimi's table. "Later."

"Wait, Yamato!" Mimi quickly stood up from her seat. "You forgot your milk!" she held the pink box up with her slender right hand.

He stopped and looked back. "I don't like to feel indebted. Hope it suits your taste, Prin—" Yamato bit his tongue and refrained from saying 'princess'; he was not quite sure what _exactly_ their relationship was. Acquaintances? Would that warrant a cheeky tease? Or were they already friends? Despite bearing the crest of friendship, he was never too good at defining relationships—even his own.

"Meems," he finished. With another smirk and a slight wave he left the brunette who was not unable to say anything back.

'_Was he about to call me Princess?' _she thought, disbelief apparent in her face. People have called her princess thousands of times, but to think that _he _of all people would do it? _'Since when was he so, so... cheeky?'_ That thought kept her standing even after the three boys were long out of sight.

"So, _Meems,_" her friends' brazen tones snapped her back to reality. "What was that about 'two days ago' and you borrowing his blazer?" their faces were similar to hound dogs hungry for food.

"N-nothing!" Mimi sat back down, growing wary of her cheeks getting warmer. Trying to dodge her friends' sharp questioning, she buried her head in her arms.

She always did have a slight preference to strawberry flavoured things.

* * *

**A/N:** And you´ve reached the end of Chapter 2 of The Little Things! I´ve decided on having a single storyline as I´m not too good at writing drabbles. However, the chapters will not form a linear chronology—there will be flashback chapters in the future—and they will only form snippets of Yamato and Mimi's interactions with each other. Currently, they are at that awkward point where they can't comfortably refer to each other as friends, but simultaneously, saying that they are mere acquaintances feels wrong.

Thank you for the alerts and favourites, and of course, the reviews! They make my day, really. :)

**Starrymilk: **Yes, they are definitely fun to write about! I think that they could have been very close (in the show) had they gotten over that awkward not-that-close-but-supposed-to-be-because-of-the-mutual-friends-but-are-closer-with-other-people stage. But honestly, I, for one, don't believe that Mimi (who has never shown interest in cooking even _once_) suddenly became a celebrity cook without _anyone's_ involvement. I blame Yamato, really. (headcanon)

**Guest &amp; Kai: **Thank you!

**Digi Yo: **Thank you! I will definitely continue this!


	3. The Break Up Part I

**The Little Things**

* * *

_Because it's the little things that make one fall in love._

* * *

**3\. The Break Up Part I: That Time under the Tree**

11 June 2014

"I wonder if I should have bought her some hot tea instead..." Mimi thought out loud, her gaze boring through a bottle of cold water in her right hand, her other hand resting in the pocket of her navy blue skirt. She was walking through the hallway of the first floor with a little less gusto than she usually had.

Mimi let out a small sigh as she let her right hand fall back to her side.

The weekend before, Sora and Yamato broke up. It was based on mutual consent and was an amicable settlement; no painful words were exchanged nor did any altercation occur between the two. However, the effect of the break up on Sora would suggest otherwise.

"He was the one who initiated the conversation. He said that... we're just too similar, Mimi. Too... full of insecurities, you know?" Sora had said to Mimi over the phone on Sunday. "And I... I agreed with him... But, you know, I-I've always thought I could help him with his insecurities as I deal with my own, but... But—" her sentence was cut with a sudden sob. Mimi knew what Sora would have said had she not cried.

_It was too much._

Mimi had rushed straight to Sora's place after the phone call took place, knowing that Sora needed a friend by her side—a friend that did not necessarily know what to bring to her place aside from the customary bucket of ice cream and a chock full of chick-flicks, but a friend nonetheless. With every step she took, Mimi was getting more and more worried of Sora's condition. When Mimi arrived at Sora's place, her doubt was confirmed.

Sora was a mess.

Her hair was messy and matted, her face was swollen, and her eyes was bloodshot. She was wearing the old, oversized pajama Mimi had seen appeared whenever Sora was going through a tough time. Quickly pulling the red-head into a hug, Mimi said, "tell me everything." As she comforted her friend, Mimi wondered how Yamato was handling the situation. She had no doubt that he would be cool and composed in the midst of it all. But, despite him being a friend of hers too, Mimi could not help but wish that he suffered just as much as Sora did.

Mimi snapped out of her reverie, nearly bumping into the door at the end of the hallway. She shook her head quickly, trying to focus back on reality, and opened the door that lead to the outdoor. She took a step outside the building and onto the concrete pathway that was laid amidst the school garden. At the end of the pathway was another door that lead to the school's second building where Sora's class is located. Mimi planned on visiting her best friend and cheer her up, thinking that the cold water would help refresh her feelings.

Halfway through the pathway, Mimi noticed a head of blond hair a good 500 meters away to the right, resting under a big tree. The spiky style of the hair seemed familiar, like it was owned by a leader of a teenage band she knew, the one who caused so much pain to her best friend.

Curiosity got the best of Mimi as she subconsciously started to walk towards the big tree. She wanted to confirm that, indeed, the head belonged to Yamato Ishida, and she also wanted to confirm that he was sure of his decision to break up with Sora. Mimi thought they were a good match. Well, she had always thought that Sora would be better off with Taichi, but if Yamato can make her just as happy, why not?

As she got closer, she got the first confirmation she wanted. The head indeed belonged to Yamato Ishida. He was sleeping with his right arm under his head, using it as a pillow, the other resting on his stomach. His long legs were exposed to the heat of the summer sun, but the rest of him was safely covered by the tree's shadow. Mimi crouched down beside him, studying his facial expression.

'_He seems so... tired,' _she thought.

Mimi took notice of Yamato's ironically restless expression, his crinkling forehead, his furrowed eyebrows. The bags under his eyes formed a strong shadow of violet, indicating a lack of sleep. Occasionally, his body would shudder, like he was avoiding something. Running away from something.

Almost instantaneously, Mimi wanted to slap herself silly for thinking that Yamato was fine, that he was not at all affected by the break up. She wanted to dig a hole and bury herself in it for _wishing _that Yamato would suffer as Sora did. It broke her heart to see him so distressed... so _defenseless._

She wanted to help him ease the pain as she did for Sora. She wanted to console him. But she knew that no matter how much she asked him to open up to her, he would not. They were not very close; he had no reason to confide in a distant friend like her when he barely confides to Taichi and Takeru.

Mimi looked up at the sky and raked her brain, searching for a way to help Yamato. Any way, no matter how small or insignificant, was fine. Then an idea struck her. She quickly pushed her left hand to her pocket, grasping around for an item she always had on her. As soon as she felt the familiar material, she pulled it out.

On her hand was a white handkerchief with laces sewed on the edges. She carefully laid it out on the grass and folded it to a rectangular shape before wrapping it around the bottle, letting it absorb the cold water dews.

'_No, this is not cold enough.'_

She opened the water bottle and poured its content on the soft fabric. Mimi then set the handkerchief on her palm and pressed it with her other palm, wringing out excess moisture. She quietly scooted closer to Yamato and gently placed the damp handkerchief on his eyes, carefully and lightly pressing it down to fit the shape of Yamato's face.

"I hope you'll feel better soon, Matt," she whispered. She promptly stood up and left to buy Sora another beverage.

'_At least now I can buy her hot tea,' _she smiled.

* * *

The sound of trees rustling woke Yamato up.

He sleepily groaned; he had not been able to get a wink of sleep for the past few days. This was partly due to him having pondered of his future, specifically with Sora, and partly due to the guilt he felt for having initiated the conversation that lead to the break up. _'It was going to happen eventually...' _he thought. He could no longer let Sora carry all the weight of their insecurities on her own. It was not as if he did not try to carry his own share of the bloody thing, he tried _so hard. _But it was too much. He was not strong enough. Not for himself, and definitely not for the both of them.

A heavy sigh escaped his dried lips. _'I should probably get back to class,' _he thought absentmindedly. The outside was his escape; it was his oasis. He could not stomach the thought of being in the same class with Sora, having to look at her tired expression and messy demeanour he knew he caused. The guilt never stopped coming for him.

It was around then that he realized opening his eyes was a bit more difficult than it usually was. Something heavy, yet strangely soothing, was weighing his eyelids down and keeping them closed. _'Is someone here?' _he thought, further relaxing when he heard no human movement. He moved his free hand toward the object atop his eyelids and felt a cold, damp textile. A sweet scent whirled around his nose, presumably coming from the fabric that he assumed to be a handkerchief. The scent calmed him down and gave him a sense of comfort. It smelled so familiar, yet he could not tell to whom it belonged.

Not long after, he drifted back to sleep.

* * *

**A/N: **Ahoy! Sorry for the terrible delay for the chapter, work and thesis had caused quite the storm in my life. Thank you for the alerts, favourites, and reviews! You guys keep me motivated to write more of TLT :)

**Starrymilk: **Thank you! :D I never thought that he would be snobbish; just aloof and... misunderstood? Hence his fondness of being alone. But maybe I'm over thinking it, haha.

**Scripturiens: **Thank you for the reviews! I'm not too fond of 'Meems' either, but could not find a one-syllable nickname for Mimi. Do you perhaps have a suggestion for her nickname that I can use in the future? :)

**Kai: **That's the plan! Thank you! :D

**Guest, Digi Yo &amp; Yaahaa: **Thank you! :D


	4. That Time at the Karaoke

Note: All underlined speeches are said in fluent English.

* * *

**The Little Things**

_Because it's the little things that make one fall in love._

**4\. That Time at the Karaoke**

22 May 2014

Ishida Yamato never understood what made Tachikawa Mimi so popular.

Every time she walked down his class's hallway, half of the students (boys, mostly) would go over to the classroom door to check her out. Occasionally, a few catcalls could be heard but she would ignore it all the same. Yamato had seen the same thing happening on a few other hallways and assumed she got the same treatment in pretty much any hallway of the school.

He _got _that she's pretty, really. But so is Sora, and she never got the (sometimes derogatory) treatment Mimi got (Yamato thanked God for that).

(Also, that explanation did not cover why there were so many _girls_ who swooned over Mimi.)

(Unless he estimated a wrong number of people who were heterosexual.)

(Not that he observed people for fun or anything.)

He sighed and focused back on the class, his teacher babbling on about a classic literature the class was assigned to read. Absentmindedly, Yamato jotted down the title of the book, spinning his grey mechanical pencil in between the letters.

A small buzz was heard from his pocket, his leg feeling the soft vibration. Cautiously, he took his cellphone out and flipped it open.

_**Karaoke today after school! Don't you dare bail on me this time! Everyone's coming lol - Taichi **_

'_Everyone?' _Yamato thought. _'Ah, he probably meant Sora, Koushiro, and the rest.' _He figured, the memory of Taichi's surprise birthday party still fresh in his mind.

He quickly texted 'got it' and returned his attention back to the blackboard.

* * *

"But in the end, it doesn't really matter~"

Taichi finished his karaoke song with a slow punch to the air. Joe, Hikari, Takeru, and Koushiro gave small, almost forced, claps, awkward smiles plastered on their faces. Sora and Yamato sat idly, their expression unreadable—one would guess that they looked _understandingly_ _tired_—as they watched Taichi threw a couple of air pumps, psyched to see his own score.

**40!**

"Woo! Best score I've had so far!" Taichi shouted triumphantly. He did a little dance where he shrugged his shoulders and moved a couple steps to the right and then to the left before doing the routine all over again. "This year's looking good!"

"Is it over?" Mimi took her index fingers from her ears and opened one of her eyes to peek at the current situation. "Wow, Taichi! Forty! That's your best score yet, isn't it?" she chirped as she walked over to the front of the room, offering a high five to Taichi. He returned the gesture with gusto.

"Yesse, it is! Quite an improvement, if I must say so myself," Taichi said and smugly rubbed his nose with his free thumb.

"Great, great!" Mimi swiftly took the microphone from Taichi's hand and bumped him away with her hips. "Now, let me teach you how it's _really _done," she cockily smirked, an eyebrow raised while her hand flipped her hair back.

"Yes, yes, Princess Mimi, I got it..." Taichi could only step back in resignation. In contrary to Taichi's reaction, the rest of the room seemed very content with the change of singer. Koushiro offered Taichi a seat between himself and Joe.

"Hello_, _Chosen Children~!" Mimi sang to the microphone. A few of the Chosen Children clapped enthusiastically to mirror a concert. "Why, thank you for your applause," Mimi took a small bow. "Today, I will be singing..." she inputted a few key words into the karaoke machine before tapping OK on a particular title, "Decode by Paramore!"

"Go, Mimi!" Takeru cheered.

She nodded her head to the rhythm as the strums of a guitar signal the beginning of the song.

"How can I decide what's right, when you're clouding up my mind? I can't win your losing fight, all the time."

Mimi's performance was light, yet powerful. Despite only having lived in the States for a couple of years, her pronunciation was perfect. The karaoke room was swept under the feeling of the song, with Hikari swinging along to the notes and melody.

"You know, I've always thought of this, but she is an _incredible _singer," Sora whispered to Yamato, her body slightly leaning on his.

"Hmm. I suppose Mimi is pretty good," Yamato replied coolly, his expression as straight as an arrow. Sora knew better; he was feeling slightly overwhelmed as a singer (she thought it was quite silly and cute how he thought of Mimi as competition).

Yamato had heard Sora went on about how good Mimi's voice is, but he never expected her to be _this_ good (he had thought that all those years spent with Taichi lowered Sora's standard for singing voices). He was sour because he thought he was the best singer within their group, and he did _not_ like his odds in competing with Mimi for the title.

(The odds were not good nor bad. Just _okay. _50-50.)

(But he was the leader of a quite popular rock band (that, funnily enough, was on the _rocks_), dammit! He shouldn't be facing these odd odds in the first place!)

(Was this the charm that got everyone taken by Mimi Tachikawa?)

"94?! Wow, Mimi, that's so awesome!" Sora congratulated her friend as soon as her score was announced as the whole room (minus one bitter blonde) gave Mimi an applause.

"It wasn't my best, but I guess I'll take a 94," Mimi said in a faux-humble manner, fully aware that she got the whole room going by her flow.

"I _suppose_ a 94 is an achievement," Yamato spoke up from his seat, his face losing its trademark cool expression by the second, replaced by slight irritation at the unspoken—nonexistent, one might even say—challenge.

Mimi's face slightly twitched in annoyance. "So you think you could do _better_, Ishida?" she taunted.

"I don't just think it, _Tachikawa_," Yamato said mockingly, "I know it. Here, let me show you how a _professional _does it." He opened his right hand, gesturing Mimi to hand over the microphone. She inaudibly grumbled under her breath (about a cocky "professional" brat, probably), and grudgingly tossed the microphone to the lead singer before taking her seat. He caught it and gave her a smug smirk, before inputting letters into the karaoke machine. He scrolled through a list of songs and decided to pick Mask, a song by Aqua Timez.

Yamato sang as he would on stage, subtly (and successfully) trying to capture the attention of the room. His strong voice filled the space and everyone but Mimi nodded their head along to the catchy tune. The said girl merely crossed her arms and pouted as she watched him perform, his clear blue eyes gleaming in the dim room.

As the song came to a stop, everyone (again, minus Mimi) cheered and applauded his performance. Mimi blew a strand of hair out of her face and shrugged.

"Eh, I've seen better."

"Say that after you see the score," Yamato smirked confidenetly, waiting for the score to appear on the screen.

**94!**

Yamato's mouth dropped in shock, his expression slowly showing disbelief.

"That's amazing, bro! You got the same score as Mimi!" Takeru exclaimed, amazed at his brother's high score.

"You should really try to be a professional singer, Mimi, I mean you're pretty much on the same level as Yamato—" Koushiro commented before he abruptly stopped himself upon seeing Mimi's twitching eyebrows (in anger, he presumed).

"T-there is _no way…_" both Mimi and Yamato quietly began their sentences, "that he/she is better than me!" they finished simultaneously, glaring at each other.

"Now, now…" Sora tried to mediate the two teenagers. "No one said that one of you is better than the other," she raised both her hands, switching her calming gaze from Mimi to Yamato and then back to Mimi. "Let's just move on from this and enjoy the party. Now who wants to sing?" she asked the room awkwardly, the tension yet to subside.

"ME!" Mimi shouted and raised her arm sky high. "I'll show you who the professional here is!" she challenged Yamato as she strode to the front of the room.

"Oh… There is _no way_ am I giving you this mic," Yamato raised the microphone over his head, where Mimi couldn't reach.

"Give it!" she jumped, stretching both her arms, occasionally bumping her body against his for leverage, but failing nonetheless. She continued her attempt for the mic, jumping from one spot to another.

"H-hey, how about giving other people who hasn't sung a chance, huh?" Sora suggested.

"Listen, Sora. I will not give up until I give your _boyfriend _here," Mimi threw a sharp glare at Yamato, "a lesson for challenging _me _in a singing contest."

"Don't flatter yourself, Tachikawa, I never issued a challenge against you," Yamato replied coolly despite being backed into the wall by Mimi's constant attempt at the microphone.

"Yeah, Mimi, just let it go… I mean Yamato _is _the one who's in a band—_gulp,_" Joe's attempt at diplomacy was silenced by Mimi's almost comical (had the situation not been so) snarl.

Sora groaned in defeat. "This is going nowhere…" she mumbled, massaging the bridge of her nose in frustration. "Okay, how about this? We ask the staff for another mic, and both of you can have a sing-off to settle this once and for all. And _then _we can get back to celebrating Taichi's birthday," she said, her tone slightly stern. "Okay?"

Mimi stopped reaching for Yamato's microphone to consider. "I'm up for that," she decided, her arms crossed.

"Sure," Yamato said, trying to sound nonchalant.

"You're on, pretty boy."

"Thanks for the compliment."

The rest of the Chosen Children could only sigh.

* * *

The first sing-off proved to be unsuccessful at reclaiming peace at the small room, as both Yamato and Mimi got 98.

"How about a rematch?"

"Let's do it."

And so they sang another song.

* * *

"I-I can't believe it…"

Yamato exhaled, a triumphant smirk ever present on his handsome face.

"Heh. Don't issue a challenge you can't win—"

"How could I lose by _one point_?!" Mimi whined hysterically.

"Well, it's better than losing by five points, right?" Koushiro tried to console Mimi, patting her on the shoulder. He wasn't sure of how she would react to this, so his well-meaning shoulder pats came out awkward and a bit stiff. "Do you want some ice tea? My treat?" he gave her a soothing smile.

"Koushiro..." Mimi pouted. "I'd very much like an ice tea, thanks…" her gaze fluttered to a random spot in the room, her soul leaving her body. Koushiro lead her back to her seat.

"If you ask me," Yamato began, his ego slightly inflated by his victory, "she should've lost by—"

"Hush, you!" Sora clamped her hands on Yamato's mouth and dragged him back to his seat.

"Alright! Now that the microphones are back on the market, whaddaya say we have a good ol' brother-sister duet, Hikari?" Taichi spoke up, enthusiastic that the two mic hoggers were finally back on their seats.

"Okay, brother!" Hikari beamed and picked up a microphone. The siblings quickly picked a song and started singing, Hikari's soft voice adequately covered Taichi's horrendous one.

"Here you go, Mimi," Koushiro offered the ice tea to a still-sulky Mimi who sat in the corner, occasionally mumbling bitter things. She looked at him and gratefully took the cold glass from his hand before sipping the striped straw.

"Ish good…" she mumbled, the straw still in her mouth, absentmindedly stirring it inside the glass.

"I'm glad you like it."

Mimi stopped drinking from her straw. "I need to go to the bathroom," she sniffed, her features still sour. "I'll be back soon."

With that, Mimi strutted out the room.

"Yamato, you really…" Sora nagged as soon as Mimi was out of sight.

He just shrugged with indifference and continued to look through the song list, picking songs to later sing.

* * *

Mimi had not come back.

At first, everyone thought that she went to the bathroom to refresh herself. After 5 minutes passed, Joe said that she might've gone to the convenience store across the street to get snacks (despite the karaoke place having banned outside foods and drinks). After 15 minutes passed, Sora was starting to get worried, but Hikari assured her that maybe Mimi was fixing her make-up and accidentally messed it up (though Hikari herself thought it was unlikely). Now, at the 20 minute mark, Sora's worry for her best friend could no longer be contained.

"Okay, she has gone for too long. I'll look for her," Sora got up and pat her skirt pocket to ensure her cellphone was inside.

"You know, Sora," Taichi said, "Mimi is probably just sulking. You know, 'cuz of him." Taichi pointed his thumb to Yamato, who flinched upon hearing the accusation.

"Still… Someone needs to get her."

"I vouch Yamato go look for Mimi and apologize for his big-headedness," Taichi raised his hand. "All in favour say aye."

"Aye," the rest of the gang said and raised their hands almost all at the same time.

"Huh? Why me?" Yamato rose up in protest (he didn't like to admit it, but his ego had a larger hold on his judgment than he would like). "And how am I supposed to get her if she's in the _girls' bathroom_?"

"You're the one who pissed her off, that's why. Just knock the door and call her out," Taichi answered, choosing another rock song to sing. "If there's no answer, ask the janitor lady to go check the inside or something."

"Wha…"

The rock song started to play.

"Oh, I know this song!" Sora exclaimed.

"Alright, go get the other mic and sing with me, Sora," Taichi offered. Yamato stood dumbfounded. "What're you waiting for? Go get her—it's the official order of the Birthday King," Taichi smirked haughtily, elated that he was somehow able to order the (rather difficult) Yamato.

"Che, it's not even your birthday anymore…" Yamato grumbled under his breath as he stomped out the room, irritated.

(Yamato knew Taichi had a point.)

(He just didn't want to admit it.)

(Not out loud, at least.)

* * *

After 5 minutes of venturing into unknown hallways and getting lost (due to him still being slightly cranky and not paying attention to his surroundings), Yamato finally asked the karaoke staff where the bathrooms were located. Having given proper direction, he lightly jogged his way there, wanting to get everything over and done with. As instructed by the staff, he turned left, right and then took another left to arrive at the designated corridor. He stopped and looked around to find the bathroom sign at the very end of the hallway, around 50 meters from where he was standing.

From the corner of his periphery, he spotted a small head of golden brown near the doors to the bathroom, surrounded by two heads of blue and black, respectively. He noticed that the golden brown was Mimi, and the two other heads were two guys, wearing another school uniform, one wearing a blue beanie.

They looked like they were having a conversation—he was much too far to overhear what they were talking about. He leaned at the wall behind him and decided to observe for a while, unsure whether or not the two men were Mimi's acquaintance. _'I don't want to interrupt her conversation—might piss her off even more' _was the excuse he gave himself.

"Hey, miss... Are you here on your own?" the guy with the blue beanie asked.

"Let's have fun with us, huh? Three is better than one, isn't it?" the other guy laughed, perverseness lacing his tone. "My name is Akira, and my friend here is Yuu." His laughter got even louder.

Mimi crossed her arms and looked at them in disdain. "Pardon, I don't speak Japanese," she uttered in fluent English. "Move out of the way."

"A foreign sweetheart, eh? I thought you were Japanese..." Yuu smirked. "But, that makes it even better! You know what they say about foreigners, don'cha?" he nudged his partner's chest with his elbow, grinning. Akira mirrored the expression.

Mimi couldn't help but threw up a little inside.

"Move already."

She rolled her eyes at the conversation that took place between them ("What'd she say?" "I dunno, should've brought your dictionary wit'cha, dumbass!"). When it was clear that neither man was going to give her way, she took matter into her own hands and started to squeeze her way from the small gap between Yuu and the wall, taking care not to touch any part of his body.

"Uh-uh-uh~ where do you think you're going?" He moved his body to the side and blocked the gap completely.

"Move." Mimi seethed. She wasn't in a happy mood when she left the bathroom, and this ordeal just burned her emotion even more.

"You're going nowhere, _sweetheart_," he grabbed Mimi's left arm and yanked her back to her previous place, slamming her to the wall. Mimi gasped in surprise, her expression contorted, showing the slight pain she felt on her back.

Upon seeing the movement, two things ran through Yamato's brain: 1) these guys obviously weren't Mimi's friends; and 2) he had to do something, _now_. His teeth gritted in anger as he ran in full speed towards the end of the hallway.

Mimi inhaled sharply, her eyes widening. "Someone please help—"

_**BAM!**_

The man with the beanie shouted in pain and stepped back, clutching his crotch.

"—this guy before I _completely destroy_ _his manhood._"

Yamato slowed down his pace in awe, completely bewildered at the scene unraveling in front of him. Mimi stood tall over Yuu, her hands clenched into knuckles so tight her skin was turning white, her right leg stiffly held up after kicking Yuu in his private area.

"I told you to move, didn't I?" she said, dark aura emanating from her being.

"_B-bitch_..." Yuu spat, his face red with rage. "So you _can _speak Japanese! Oh, you'll pay for this! We'll _make _you pay! Get her, Akira!" he shouted, vein popping on his forehead. Mimi quickly brought both her arms to guard herself, her teeth grinding against each other, her legs ready to deliver another crunching blow. Akira prepared to dodge her kicks and reached out for Mimi's neck with both of his arms.

"Mimi!" Yamato called loudly, standing 5 meters from where the altercation was happening. Every party involved in said altercation seized their actions, Mimi in particular dropping her guard entirely upon recognizing the voice who called her name. "Yamato," she replied, barely a whisper. The expression she had told him that she hasn't finished her current business with the men.

"Let's go back. Everyone is waiting for you," he calmly strode over and pulled Mimi to his side by her arm. Despite having mixed feelings (_'I'm still mad at you, you know.'_) she let herself be pulled by him, taking a mental note of how strong his grip was.

"Hey, we're not finished with you!" Akira yelled at Mimi.

"Is there a problem here?" Yamato stepped in front of Mimi and glared coldly at Akira. "You should know…if you mess with my friend, you're messing with me," he glowered.

"And it just so happens that I'm not as..." he paused, searching for the right word, "_merciful..._ as she is," he gave a small, wicked smile.

Akira flinched before taking a glimpse at Yuu, who was still doubled up in pain. Akira quickly glanced at Mimi, only to find her with a fierce expression that told him she would be more than glad to continue this.

"Tch!" Akira turned away and helped Yuu stand up. "Let's go, Yuu." He glared at Mimi, "she's not worth the trouble." Yuu, in return, nodded weakly despite the anger that was still apparent on his face. The two men trotted away from Mimi and Yamato, the latter keeping his gaze fixed to the silhouette of the two men until they disappeared at the turn of the corridor.

* * *

"You know, that could've been dangerous," Yamato said nonchalantly, but people who knew him better would have sensed concern seeping through his voice. He and Mimi were on their way back to the karaoke room, Mimi walking on Yamato's left side.

She puffed her cheeks and pouted. "I can take care of myself. You saw what I did. I may not know aikido or karate or what-have-you, but I'm pretty damn sure I can get both of them on their knees, begging for my mercy," she chuckled darkly, her anger yet to subside.

"That's not what I meant," he sighed, running his hand through his hair. "I don't doubt that they wouldn't get anywhere with you. In fact, if I hadn't been there, you'd probably tackle that other guy to the ground," his eyes instinctively looked up while he imagined the scene.

Mimi nodded, feeling proud of herself.

"_But_, if that had continued, you also would've exposed yourself to the possibility of getting two assault charges instead of one." He raised an eyebrow and glanced at her, questioning her judgment of not even attempting to scream for help (those hallways were reverberant enough to act as a make-shift megaphone, after all).

"Erk...!" she halted for a second, mentally scolding herself for not thinking of it first. "W-well, I highly doubt they would press charges considering their own action towards me," she huffed, trying to make light of the situation.

Yamato outright ignored her attempt. "Then the police would come and arrest you."

Mimi was silent, her eyebrows knitted in embarrassment. She didn't like where this was going.

(More importantly, she didn't like that he thought she was reckless.)

"Then you'd have to go to juvie," his eyes widened in wonder.

"I get it, Yamato, you can stop now."

"Then you'd _be _a juvie."

"Ishida, _stop_."

"Can you just imagine the horror on everyone's faces? Everyone's favourite Mimi Tachikawa as a _juvie!_" He laughed, putting his hand on his forehead at the hilarity of it all, a small tear forming at the corner of his eye.

"Stoooop argh...!" she pushed him softly, her face red. "I get it, I get it, I was rash, I should've asked for help first or something."

"Well, you kinda did. On their behalf, though, so I'm not sure how that would work—"

"Yamato stooooooop," she whined, her blush becoming a deeper shade of red.

He smirked and stopped his teasing. "...You wouldn't be alone in juvie, though."

Her face was a mix of slight shock and confusion. "Well, _duh_, I doubt they'd reserve a whole building for _moi,_" she rolled her hazel eyes.

He shoved his hands into his pants pockets. "Again, that's not what I meant."

She spiraled into even deeper confusion.

"If that had continued, I'd probably get charged for assault, too," he said, trying his hardest to make it sound nonchalant.

One of her groomed eyebrows raised in curiosity.

He noted her confusion and sighed. "I'm saying that if they still tried to get you to go with them despite having you kicked the beanie guy's, as you say, _manhood_,"Yamato mocked Mimi as she turned her head away in embarrassment, "I'd be charged for assaults, too."

She turned back to look at him, expecting him to say something for clarity.

"For kicking their asses," he finished.

She still waited.

"For trying to do something funny to you."

_'Why do I have to spell everything out for you?' _Yamato yelled inside his head, his ears turning red.

(He wasn't used to saying these things.)

She simply mouthed "ah" and gave a few nods in understanding.

They neared their karaoke room. She quickened her pace and got a few steps ahead of him, arriving at the room seconds earlier.

"Two things, Yamato," she said, her hand lightly placed on the handle.

He stopped and tilted his head to the left, waiting for her to continue her sentence.

"First," she held her index finger up. "Thank you for getting me out of that sticky situation. God knows I wouldn't have be able to handle _two _charges of assault," she continued, putting strong emphasis on the word two to mock Yamato's concern. He rolled his eyes playfully at her.

"It's a genuine concern, _Tachikawa_." His smirk was back.

She waved his statement off with her free hand. "And second," she held two fingers up, "if you were ever in danger, know that I will do the same for you." She smiled at him brightly, genuinely, sincerely.

He gave a lop-sided smile in response.

"Only if you scream and beg me to, though," she teased and stuck her tongue out at him before disappearing into the dark karaoke room.

For the nth time today, he ran a hand through his blond locks and sighed. And, just a little bit, he understood why everyone was so taken by Tachikawa Mimi.

(Just a little bit, though.)

* * *

**A/N: **I'm back! Work and other personal things had been taking up my time, but I hope this chapter makes up for it. As always, thank you very much for reading this story, and of course giving a review and this story an alert/favourite; it makes my day!

**starrymilk: **Hello, again! That's what I had thought, too! Maybe I'll write a chapter about it too! haha ^^ Yes, definitely, she's my faaaave because she's such a complex character!

**Closet Libra: **Thank you very much! I tried my best to make them in character ^^


	5. That Time He Taught Her How to Cook

**The Little Things**

* * *

_Because it's the little things that make one fall in love._

* * *

**5\. That Time He Taught Her How to Cook**

30 April 2015

Odaiba High was one of those schools that was built in a big, old building. Most of the rooms were decently covered with plaster and pale paint, but there were still some which were in obvious need of renovation. Despite that, the school was properly equipped with rather luxurious facilities, such as a swimming pool, a large cafeteria, and a spacious library.

In that very library, a beautiful girl was tiptoeing her way to the reading corner, her arms carrying a thick book and a smaller, much thinner notebook. She'd occasionally bump into the corner of a bookshelf and rubbed her sore body to relieve the pain while hissing as quietly as possible.

(The girl was Tachikawa Mimi.)

Upon reaching the rows of tables and chairs, she exhaled in relief. At the corner of her eyes, she spotted a student with spiky blonde hair. His head laid atop his arms, which was folded on top of the table. Some books were haphazardly scattered around him, seemingly opened at random pages.

Mimi stepped closer until she was beside him. She bent her body down to check if the boy was who she thought he was.

(She was right.)

(It was Ishida Yamato.)

Small, slow breaths of air escaped his slightly ajar lips. His eyes were tightly closed. Mimi stayed put on her spot, looking at his long eyelashes, prominent nose, sculpted face—she couldn't help but admire the way he looked when he's asleep.

(Because when awake, he's just too much of a sass-ball to be admired.)

Absentmindedly, her hand reached out to caress his hair away from his face. The ticklish sensation woke him up, his clear blue eyes fluttering open. She quickly tore her hand away from his face before he noticed it was ever there in the first place, silently swearing at both her carelessness and the possibility of an awkward predicament incited by said carelessness.

"Mimi? Is that you?" Yamato asked, rubbing one of his eyes, not fully alert.

She stood straight swiftly, her wandering hand hid behind her back. "Y-yeah! It's me. Mimi." She bit her tongue to stop her stutter.

He yawned and stretched his arms, getting the kinks out of his system. "What're you doing here?"

Mimi quietly set the books she was holding on the table, plopping down on the seat right beside Yamato. "I'm just trying to... study," she mumbled the last word, as if trying to hide it. Unfortunately for her, he heard it.

(He and his impeccable hearing.)

"Studying what?"

"Eh... You know... Modern Japanese...?"

Yamato eyed the thick book she laid down. It read _Japanese Modern Dictionary._

"You need help with your Japanese? You're speaking it fine, though," he propped his face on his hand, trying to read the small print of the notebook partially concealed under the dictionary.

"Why would you say that? You wouldn't know my test sco—hey, what are you doing?" she seethed when he swiped her notebook from its hiding place.

"Aerate... Parboiling... Tempering," he read the words written in the pink book out loud. "Why would you need to know these terms?" he questioned, an eyebrow raised.

She snatched her book away from his pestering hands. "None of your—!"

**SSH! **

She jolted slightly from the menacing hiss and turned her attention back to Yamato. "None of your business!" she tried to yell as quietly as possible.

"If I didn't know any better," he began, "I'd guess that you've been reading some books on cooking and are confused with the terminology used, but I guess I knew better," he flipped through more pages, eyes strolling from right to left. "Or maybe I know just enough?" he glanced back at her, aware that his guess was spot on.

Mimi scrunched the hem of her skirt, her cheeks showing a shade of soft pink.

(One, because she didn't want anyone to know she was having trouble understand Japanese; two, because he _was_ right; and three, because he was just _so cocky_ about being right.)

(Like she said, he couldn't be admired when he's awake.)

"You...!" she started when she noticed the content of the books he had strategically spread around his perimeter. English words abound. She used this chance to turn the situation around. "What about you, huh? What are _you _doing?"

"Studying," he evaded her tactic casually. She grumbled at this and blew a strand of light brown hair away from her face.

"So... My guess was right?" he grinned.

'_Why does he have to be such a _tease_?' _she complained inwardly. After a few seconds, she sighed in resignation. "Yes... Your guess was right."

Yamato chuckled. "It's nothing to be ashamed of, you know. I didn't know what they mean when I started, too."

"You know what these words mean?" Mimi's face visibly gleamed, excited at the prospect of not having to search each individual word from the dictionary.

"Yeah," he said nonchalantly, flipping a page from the English book in front of him, taking a few seconds to read and write things down. "My dad doesn't cook very well, so I've been the one doing the cooking for both of us since I was little," he slipped a bit of his personal information. "Lately, I've been wanting to cook something different, so I started reading a few recipe books."

She wondered how he knew what to cook before reading the recipe books. As if reading her mind, he answered: "When I was a kid, I used to watch those morning cooking shows to get new recipes."

"Hee..." she pondered; she always watched those cooking shows but for some reason was never able to process more information than how delicious the food looked by the end. "Can you teach me what they mean?" she asked unabashedly.

"What _what _mean?"

"The words."

"Not right now, I'm studying."

"I'll tutor you for it."

"You're going to tutor me?" Yamato asked, his expression incredulous. "I'm a grade above you, you know."

Mimi snorted. "You're _really _doubting my English, Yamato? My _English_?" she taunted. Yamato saw her point.

(But he still didn't want to be taught by a junior.)

"Come on..." she coaxed. "I just need you to tell me what these words mean and I'll be giving you a private lesson for free! Most guys would _die_ for that," she exaggerated. "Just look—give me that," she jerked one of his books away. "The main point of this paragraph is how global warming is destroying the environment and how there are some people who still debate that claim," she pointed to a long paragraph after taking a few seconds to skim it.

"I don't need help understanding English, Mimi," he scowled and took his book back.

"Then why do you have so many books here?" she threw her arms at his scattered books, still in disbelief that he would throw such a great opportunity of being tutored by Tachikawa Mimi.

**SSH!**

Mimi rolled her eyes and mocked whoever shushed her.

"Please, Yamato? It would really help me. _Please please please please please_—"

"Alright, alright!" He finally cracked. "Just keep quiet. I don't want to be thrown out of this library," he warned. "Let me see the book again."

"Yay!" she whispered in joy, handing over the requested note. He wrote short sentences beside the complicated culinary terms before giving it back to Mimi. "Hm? What does this mean? I don't get it..." she tilted her head in confusion.

"That's the definition of the term. If you want me to be more precise, I have to have context," he answered simply, focusing back on his English task.

"Yamato~" she whined.

He sighed and pinched the bridge of his tall nose. "Okay, how about this, you show me the recipe book you got those words from and I'll help you understand what they mean."

"They're at home."

"Bring them tomorrow, then."

Mimi stuck her lips out. "Fine. I'll bring them tomorrow." She kicked her legs in the air, making sure not to hit the table. "Okay, your turn. Gimme," she nudged his body away from the white notebook he used to write his notes. A paragraph, written in neat, small handwriting, was scribbled on the middle of the page in English. Mimi scrunched her face as she spotted a mistake, then two, and then a few more. Yamato shifted uncomfortably in his seat as she examined his writing, not at all assured by her constantly evolving expression.

"Yes, yes, I get it, my English isn't very good," he grumbled and massaged his neck in embarrassment, his gaze pointed directly opposite of where Mimi was sitting.

"Wha—that's not what I thought!" Mimi defended herself. "I mean, _sure_, there're some things that you can improve on, but it's not, like, _totally _hopeless." She picked up her pink-inked pen and scribbled a few notes on his notebook, occasionally making long, overly dramatic strokes. Her pink tongue slowly stuck out the corner of her lips, her eyebrows knitted in concentration.

"There ya' go~" she handed him back his notebook. Yamato groaned at the sight of his used-to-be pristine notebook filled with pink loops and scratches, but was grateful for her help nonetheless.

"Alright, bring me all of the other work you need correcting tomorrow. I gotta go now!" she stood up and gingerly picked up her notebook.

"You just got here," he noted drily.

She waved off his concern with her delicate hand. "My purpose for being here is gone, Yamato~" she sang. "Might as well spend the day doing more important things, don't you think? See ya!" she saluted him and skipped away while humming a tune.

Yamato sighed at her reasoning and turned his eyes back at the table, when he saw a big book titled _Japanese Modern Dictionary _laying to his side. His mouth twitched in annoyance.

"Mimi, return your damn book yourself!" he called out to her, slamming his hands on the table.

"_I say_, young man. Do you not know how to be quiet?" the librarian had managed to walk all the way from her desk at the corner of the library to Yamato's table, quietly but creepily towering over him.

Yamato gulped, giving her an awkward smile, inwardly cursing Mimi for her mischief.

"Dammit, Mimi..."

* * *

1 May 2015

"Excuse me! I'm looking for Yamato Ishida. Is he here?" Mimi peeked into the third-year's classroom. To her delight, the class was almost empty (her decision of visiting during lunch break was _so _strategic—being the center of attention when one had business to do was too much of a hassle).

"He's over there," a petite girl with glasses pointed at the teenager seated at the furthest row, near the windows. He seemed to be scribbling on his notebook in a rather passionate manner.

"Thanks!" Mimi smiled at the girl before making her way over to the blond, three books held firmly in her arms. "Yamato! Here are the books you requested~" she unceremoniously dropped the books onto his desk.

Yamato fell back in surprise, managing to catch himself before falling over completely. "It's you," he grumbled.

Mimi was confused. "Why so sour?"

He was silent for a few seconds. "I was thrown out of the library yesterday," he scowled, propping his head on his arm.

"_You got kicked out_?" she guffawed, her high-pitched laughter ringing throughout the room. Yamato got even grumpier and turned away from the brunette.

"It was your fault, you know."

"Aww, don't be like that, Yamato," she cooed, mirth still obvious on her face. "You know I didn't mean to get you kicked out." She tried to catch his attention by moving to the front of his face. "I'm sorry~"

He stayed silent, his expression still showing irritation.

"You're not gonna forgive me?" she tilted her head and put on her best puppy dog face. No one could resist that face.

Not even Yamato.

After a while, he gave a long, exhausted sigh. "Alright, you're forgiven, Mimi," he said reluctantly. Mimi beamed in response.

(She taught herself that technique when she saw Takeru successfully pulling one on Yamato. She always knew this would be useful.)

(It's like an unlimited get out of jail card!)

"I got those words from here," she pushed her books into his line of sight.

Yamato furrowed his eyebrows, seemingly recalling a recent memory from the back of his head.

"Didn't you buy this some time ago? I remember seeing the cover of this book before," he started flipping through the book about traditional Japanese cuisine, his eyes quickly gliding over the text.

"Haha, no, you must've remembered it from some other place," she kept her hands folded behind her, the tip of her right foot lightly tapping the floor.

"No, my memory's pretty solid. I remember seeing this book. I remember seeing you _with_ this book. At the café was it? When it rained?" he glanced at her and noticed her averting her gaze from his.

"N-no… I told you you're wrong already. You're so stubborn…" her voice was getting smaller, her lips jutting out more prominently. At that moment, he couldn't help but to compare her puckered lips to those of a fish or a chicken from an animal show he watched last night.

(The image of Mimi's face with a chicken's beak and a catfish's mustache popped into his head and he couldn't stop himself from laughing.)

(He tried, though—covered his mouth and everything.)

Mimi asked him what was wrong and he told her.

She got huffy.

He apologized between laughs.

It still took him a few moments to settle down.

"Okay, okay, I'm good now, I'm good," Yamato half-snickered, his arm still holding his stomach from his fits of laughter. "Where were we again?"

"…my book. You've never seen it before," Mimi grumbled.

"Yes, I have. At the café," he insisted.

"Fine, fine! You win! Yes, these are the books you saw at the café," she threw her arms, finally giving up.

"You're only reading them _now_?"

She nodded, still disgruntled.

"Didn't you buy these a few months back?"

"I… I've been _busy_," she muttered, rocking on her tiptoes. Pink warmed her cheeks, a good indication that she was either embarrassed or lying.

(In this case, it was the latter.)

"Let me guess, you had '_more important things' _to do than to read the books you spent your whole allowance on?"

Mimi kept her eyes glued to the windowsill and hummed a tune instead of answering his question.

Yamato rubbed his temple, having (somewhat) expected that response. "Anyway, these recipes are too complicated for a beginner like you. You should probably start with something simpler if you seriously want to try cooking."

She returned her attention back to him. "Simpler? These are the only recipe books I have; my parents never bought any."

At that moment, Yamato understood why she had such a unique palette.

(Having natto as one's favourite food is quite uncommon, after all, even for a Japanese person.)

He took a moment to consider his options. "Well, I can give you some easier recipes—so easy even _you _can't mess up."

Mimi threw daggers at him, regretting having told him her shenanigans during Home Economics.

"I don't have it with me though. You'll have to get them tomorrow." He shoved her recipe books to the side of his table.

"Tomorrow?"

He nodded. "Despite how convenient it would be, I don't have my recipes all the time, Tachikawa," the sarcasm was strongly laced in his tone.

"Get to the point, Ishida."

"They're at home."

"Oh, that's alright, I can just come by your house tomorrow," she dismissed his concern. "Just text me what your address is—you have my number, right?"

"Eh… Yeah, I do." He was pleasantly surprised at how willing she was to drop by his house to take the recipes. (One would normally expect Tachikawa Mimi to insist on having the recipes delivered to her on a silver—nay, _rose gold_—platter.)

"Great!" she clasped her hands in joy. "I'll see you, then—hold on, are those your practice paragraphs?" she examined the notebook he was passionately jotting on prior to her visit.

"Yes."

"Are these your assignments?"

"Um… No?"

"Do you need this book for your classes?"

"No…? Mimi where are you going with this—"

"_Double_ great!" In one fluid motion, she nicked the notebook from under Yamato's arms and into hers. "I'll get these done tomorrow in return for your recipes," she mentally took 15 minutes off of binge-watching her current favourite show as she picked up her 'apparently-too-difficult' recipe books. "Ciao!"

With a small wave of her hand, she was gone.

* * *

2 May 2015

_**DING DONG**_

The doorbell of Ishida's household rang, waking the currently sole occupant of the flat from his afternoon nap taken peacefully on the living room sofa.

_**DING DONG**_

_**DING DONG**_

_**DING DONG**_

The occupant grumbled and turned over to his side, hoping that the person at the door was just another salesman whose persistence would be deterred after a few minutes of disregard. He slipped his arm under his head and used it as a make-shift pillow. After the following minutes of silence, he drifted back to sleep, relieved that the salesman had finally gone away.

_**ring ring ring ring ring**_

His cellphone rang. It vibrated on the coffee table, an arm's reach from where he was sleeping. He groaned and answered the call without bothering to check who it was.

"Hello?" Yamato said groggily, eyelids still shut.

"Yamato? Where _are _you? I'm right in front of your house right now and if you're _anywhere else but home _you need to get your butt here, _pronto_."

"Mimi? Is that you?" he half mumbled his sentence, still reluctant to open his eyes.

"Of course it's me. Who _else _would you save under my name?" she huffed. "Don't tell me you didn't even save my number on your phone Ishida I swear—"

"Ssh…" he hissed sluggishly. "The walls are pretty thin… My neighbours might hear you…" Little by little, his hand released its grip on his phone, leaving it to balance itself on his ear. He let his now free arm dangle from the couch.

"Yamato? Hello? Are you there—wait are you asleep?!" she screeched upon hearing soft, slow breaths from her cell phone. She flinched in surprise when she heard her own voice resonate in a smaller volume from the other side of the door and concluded that he was, indeed, in his house. For whatever reason, he just refused to open the door for her.

(The nerve.)

_**BAM BAM BAM**_

"Ishida Yamato?! I know you're there open this door _right now_!" she demanded, banging her fist on the front door. She didn't bother to end her phone call to him—if anything, she was sure it would help wake him up.

_**BAM BAM BAM**_

"After I came all the way to your house how dare you not open the door for me—"

_**click**_

_**blam**_

Yamato managed to open the door, pull Mimi inside his flat, and shut his door close in a single move.

"Mimi…" he grunted as he laid his back against the door. He held her against him, her back on his front, his hand placed firmly on her mouth to prevent her from making any sound. If it weren't for the preceding sequence of actions, the position they were in would have been considered compromising. "Have you spared some thought that _maybe _my Dad's home, too?" he asked, his lips close enough to touch her ear. Irritation seemed to block his mind from the fact that her body was pressed against his.

She mumbled something in return, crossing her arms.

"What was that?"

Her hand reached to rip his away from her mouth. "If he had been home, I wouldn't have had to wait outside for _five minutes _waiting for your _butt_ to open the door," she retorted.

(Irritation seemed to be blocking her awareness of their 'compromising position', too.)

"…Touché." He let go of her and shoved his hands into his pants' pockets. She spun around and gave him a look that said "see what you get for trying to be sassy with me?"

"Were you sleeping, Yamato? Was I seriously ignored for a snooze?"

He shrugged and walked over to the living room. "Don't take it to heart. I do it to everyone."

She rolled her eyes and followed suit, her ruffled skirt bouncing with every step she took.

"Tea?" he offered.

"Hot, please." She took his offer for tea as a sign of reconciliation.

"Okay," he proceeded to switch the stove on and set the kettle atop one of the burners. She flopped down on the spot where he previously napped and settled her (for some reason, much bigger than usual) bag beside her. She observed the room, taking note of the simple interior and lack of family photos gracing the walls and tabletops.

"Here you go," he set down a sky blue mug in front of her. "Wait a second, I'll go get the recipes."

She nodded and took a sip of her tea. It was too bitter for her tongue (has he never heard of sugar?), but she downed it anyway.

(Yelling at the front door of a friend is quite taxing on one's throat, after all.)

Yamato came back carrying papers and took a seat adjacent to Mimi. "I'm only giving you five."

"Why?" she took the papers from him and shuffled through them.

"You have to learn how to walk before you learn to run, Mimi," he replied nonchalantly and turned the TV on, flipping the remote to find the music channel.

"Oh, good thing I came prepared then," she chirped.

"What do you mean?"

Mimi opened her bag and showed its inside to Yamato, who didn't seem too impressed at the chaotic arrangement of her bag. She thought her showing the content of her handbag was self-explanatory.

"…What are those?"

"You can't tell?" she peeked inside her bag, assuming, from his confusion, that some sort of plastic had covered the things she had stuffed into it. She was right.

"Whoops." She promptly pulled out a big plastic bag with the name of a popular grocery store printed on the sides. "So, I'm not like, the best at cooking right…"

"Obviously."

She threw him a glare. "…_So_. I was thinking that a hands-on learning experience would be better!" she took a potato out of the plastic, showcasing her intent of coming over. "It'd be _so much easier _if you just teach me!"

Yamato's shoulders visibly dropped, his face lackadaisical.

"What's up with that reaction?" she protested. "Come on, Yamato! I _promise _I'll teach you English after this. I swear on my life. Look, I even brought your books!"

He sighed and turned off the TV. He knew there was nothing to be done when she's that determined. Their time together in the Digital World had proven that if she wanted something, she would find one way or another to get it (unless it was something impossible—like going home). Besides, being privately tutored by a beautiful girl didn't sound too bad.

(Even though she _was _his junior.)

(_And _the best friend of his ex.)

"Alright, fine," he cracked his fingers. "Let's get to it," he smiled lazily at her who, in turn, stood up with fervor and balled her fists in determination. Mimi ripped her plastic bag open on the kitchen counter and let the insides roll over in various direction, not bothering to stop or catch them. Yamato's full brows rose, slowly but surely, his ocean eyes following one of the bigger potatoes coming to a stop in front of her stomach.

"What are these." It was a statement, not a question.

"Ingredients."

"You only have potatoes, a loaf of bread, marmalade, chocolates, and flour."

Muddled, she repeated her answer.

"Mimi. You only have potatoes, a loaf of bread, marmalade, chocolates, and flour." He rested his hands on the edge of the counter, leaning towards her. Her honey eyes held no comprehension of his concern.

"What the hell are you planning to make with _potato, a loaf of bread, marmalade, chocolates, and flour_?"

"Oh! Well, I wasn't so sure that you'd be up to it, so I thought I should just, you know. Cover all the bases in case you _do_ agree," she jokingly nudged him with her elbow. "I bet there's so many things that you can make with this!" Despite the joyous tone, her reply was completely serious.

He's ashamed to admit that he was looking forward to a decent answer.

* * *

They (he) decided to cook stew. They (again, he) thought that there was still usefulness in the potato, so might as well use it.

At first, he left her for the TV after telling her which step of the recipe she needed to follow. It was quite simple, really. Cut the potatoes and put them into a pot of boiling water. So, it was reasonably expected that he would be surprised upon finding the potatoes _sliced into thin strips _in the pot.

"What? You never specified _how _they're meant to be cut," was her defense. "It's not like they're inedible now or anything," she commented, stirring the pot using a wooden spoon. He was quite certain by now that she's never had a normal meal in her life—really, who slices potatoes when making stews anyway? Even a kindergartner would know that the potatoes are meant to be cut into big chunks.

(He really should stop having high expectations when it comes to Mimi and cooking.)

It goes without saying that he stopped leaving her to her own devices and started hovering around her like a hawk would its prey. Mimi would occasionally huff when he got too controlling of her actions ("There's _literally no difference_ between a pinch and a teaspoon of sugar, Yamato." "It makes _all_ the difference—wait what kind of teaspoon have you been using all your life?"). After all, there's no harm in experimenting a little, right?

(Wrong.)

* * *

After following the recipe to a T (due to Yamato's very strict supervision in not letting her deviate—sorry, _experiment_—with the recipe), something looking like stew started to form in the pot. The brown, viscous liquid would make a sloshing sound every time Mimi mix it around.

"Alright... What's next," she mused out loud, counting down the number of steps left to do.

"Bring it to a boil," Yamato answered while scrubbing a plate clean, placing it back to the emptier part of the sink before starting with the next dish. "And come help me." She nodded and walked over to his side to rinse the scrubbed plates.

"Thanks, Yamato."

"Hm?"

"Thank you. For helping me with this... cooking thing. If you weren't here I'd probably screw up the dish twenty times over."

He chuckled at the image. "Nah, I don't mind. I mean, it's obviously not the _best _thing to do on a Saturday afternoon," he said sarcastically, his eyes glinting with mischief, "but I digress." She gave him a light bump on his arm and giggled.

"I never knew you were such a charmer."

"And whose fault is it that you're only paying attention to me now?"

"Let me guess, mine?" She smiled before returning her thought back to a wooden cutting tray she previously used to slice the vegetables. He gazed at her, momentarily pausing his activity. Silence enveloped the room.

Her expression said that her statement was nothing more than her response in their banter, but they both knew that there was some truth to the topic at hand. They were never really conscious of each other. That's not to say that they didn't care for one another—their relationship was one where they silently understood and supported each other's point of view whenever an argument arose in their group. Strange, really, considering that this year was the most that they've talked since... well, since ever.

Yamato picked up some foam forming at the empty corner of the sink and dabbed it on the tip of Mimi's nose.

"Glad you're finally aware of what you've been missing, Tachikawa," he teased.

Mimi dropped the cutting board in shock. "_Gross!_" she wiped the froth off with the back of her hand and rubbed it on his cheek in retaliation. "Har-har! Look who's gross now, Ishida!" she taunted, propping her hands on her hip.

Amused and challenged, he scooped a handful of foam from the sink. Mimi took a step back in disgust and raised both hands in the air. "N-no, Yamato, no. _No. _You wouldn't dare—no! Eep!" she squealed as he pulled her arm and pat the foam square on her cheek. She widened her eyes in horror as she felt her drops of water streaking down her cheek.

"It's still you," he gave a small, impish grin. He lightly pressed his hand to her cheek to spread the coverage of the foam, satisfied at his little victory.

"Yamatoooo!"

* * *

The stew boiled a few minutes after the fiasco. Both wiping their face with a paper towel (she had gotten even with him again), Mimi and Yamato shook hands to signify truce for the greater good.

That is, the stew.

Mimi scampered off excitedly to the stove after tossing the paper towel in the direction of the rubbish bin to taste test her stew. She took a bit with the wooden spoon and dipped her finger in the small pool before putting her finger in her mouth to taste.

"Wow, I actually made something delicious!" Mimi said in amazement, genuinely surprised at the product. "Pssh—I mean, my food is always good, but—"

"Did you, now?" Yamato cut her short, standing beside her after properly throwing his and her paper towel in the bin (to his dismay, she missed her shot). He scrutinized the dish, still somewhat irked by the thin peels of potato almost floating on the substance. "I'll be the judge of that. Let me try some."

Mimi rolled her eyes at his doubt of her cooking, her pink lips forming a scowl. Without thinking, she dipped her finger in the remaining stew on the spoon and offered said finger to him.

"Here."

Yamato fell silent, unable to decipher the girl's intention. A light blush started to creep on his cheeks when he realized where the situation might lead to.

"Um, Mimi... Am I supposed to...?" he asked apprehensively, trying to keep his composure.

Almost immediately, Mimi realized what she was doing—and more importantly, _implying_—and drew her hand back to her chest, shades of red coloring her face. Seeing her reaction, Yamato felt a tinge of relief from having a correct guess of her intention (or lack, thereof).

"H-here you go!" Mimi handed the spoon over to him, keeping her face hidden from his gaze. "It's really good—I, I actually—I need to go to the bathroom!" She scurried off without looking back.

"Hn," Yamato replied, taking a sip from the utensil. He stuck his tongue against the ceiling of his mouth, taking in the full taste of the stew while he tried to calm down and get his mind off the gutter.

It was delicious.

(He actually had no problem if she wanted him to taste the stew from her finger.)

(He might actually prefer it.)

* * *

**A/N:** So, hello again! The reason it took me so long to finish this chapter is because I was drawing the cover for this story! A more detailed picture of it could be found on my tumblr: **still-salty-kingdom**, if you want to have a closer look :)

On another note, if I ever write something steamy in this story (not lemon/lime, just… more detailed encounters) should I put a warning upfront? I feel like I would ruin the surprise though, haha. What do you guys think?

**Soojinah**: Thank you so much for the compliment! I'm very glad you liked the parentheses parts, I was experimenting with a new writing style and wasn't sure that people would like it, so your review really relieved me :)

**Taishou**: Thank you so much! Please keep on reading this story ^^

**starrymilk**: Hi again! As always, thank you so much for your review :) I've actually thought that Mimi would be too used to catcalls and, despite her girly personality, will not back down if confronted directly (she'd be much too annoyed, haha). And it's my headcanon that Yamato isn't the white-knight that swoops in the moment he thinks someone might be in trouble, but would observe the situation before acting. I actually haven't watched Tri because my friend who has watched it told me that they didn't talk to one another yet again… So disappointed but so happy at the same time (because their character designs are on point). :D

**Reniel Moza**: Thank you so much! I hope you like this chapter as well ^^

Of course, I am very grateful if you leave a review—it keeps me going and it motivates me to update faster ^^ Until next time!


End file.
